Chapter Eight #3
"They cost a fortune. I doubt a single one of them has ever been opened.
They're there for display." He held up a hand.
"And don't worry, stick with me — I am going to make sense in the end, I think.
What I'm trying to say is that Callie's house felt like a handmade journal compared to those books.
You could see her fingerprints on everything.
It means something, you know? She's filled that place with who she is.
It's like an echo of her character." He looked around again. "Am I even making sense?"
Reaves nodded. "Yeah, you are to me. But I don't think you should feel bad that this place isn't an echo of you. It could be, if you decided to actually live here."
Ollie scowled. "I do live here. I've always lived here."
"No," said Reaves. "You sleep here. You've slept here since you were a little kid. But that's all this place is. Even now. How many years is it since your dad's been here?"
Ollie didn't even know. He'd lost count of the years that had gone by since his father had deigned to visit.
"Exactly. He doesn't even own the place anymore. It's yours to do as you want. But you haven't done a damn thing. Like those books you just pointed to — they don't have to be on the shelves anymore. You could have gotten rid of them."
Ollie rolled his eyes. "I can't just throw those things out. Do you know what they're worth?"
Reaves laughed. "So, sell them. Or give them away. In fact, if you like, you could give them to me and I'll sell them."
Ollie laughed with him. Reaves often joked about the difference in their finances. But whenever Ollie tried to help him out, he refused.
"You know what I mean."
"I do," said Ollie. "But let's not go down that road, huh? Today's a day for just hanging out. We don't have to fly again till next week. There's nothing we need to do." He turned around and pointed at the casserole dish. "Nothing apart from eat our way through this that Rosa sent over for us."
Reaves lifted the edge of the foil, and the dogs crowded around him.
"It's a breakfast casserole," Ollie told him.
"Awesome. Are we going to get started on it now?"
"Sure." Ollie turned the oven on to preheat. "And what about you? Did you talk to Alara again last night?"
Reaves pulled up a stool at the island and nodded. "I wish there was something I could do, you know. She sounded so tired and kind of defeated. But she said she's going to get up early and get on the way to Oregon this morning. She admitted that she'd been too tired to even attempt it yesterday."
"What kind of sick do you think she is?"
"I wish I could tell you, bud. She looked tired and pale. She's kind of skinny too."
"Hey," Reaves said indignantly. "She is not skinny. She's slender."
Ollie gave him a rueful smile. "It wasn't an insult. I just didn't know if she was losing weight because of some health condition or whether she's not getting enough to eat."
Reaves covered his eyes with his hand. "Jesus, Ollie, don't go saying things like that. I feel bad enough already."
"Sorry, bud. I wish I knew what to say. I wish I knew what we could do to help her. But she seems bound and determined to get to Oregon to take this job."
"Yeah." Reaves shrugged. "But I'm not going to give up, you know. When she gets settled up there, I'm going to ask if I can go and visit."
"Good for you. I'll take you. In the Cirrus, if you want."
Reaves met his gaze and held it. "I can drive."
"I know, but why should you? When your best bud is a poor little rich boy with his own plane and nothing else to do."
"I'd say you have something else to do," said Reaves. "You have the small matter of confessing to Callie that you are a poor little rich boy."
Shit. Ollie turned away and went to stare out the window at the vineyards. "I know I've got to do it. I just don't know when yet."
"You know my take," said Reaves. "I think you should do it sooner than later. The sooner you do it, the better. It's like ripping off a Band-Aid. It might hurt at first, but you can't start healing until it's done."
Ollie laughed. "I thought the Band-Aid was supposed to stay in place until the healing was done."
Reaves laughed with him. "Okay, so I'm mixing my metaphors, but you know what I mean. Don't try picking on me. You're the one who's lying to the first girl who's ever actually gotten to you." His smile faded. "Just don't screw it up, okay?"
"Yeah, I'm gonna do my best not to."
When the casserole was ready, Ollie brought the whole dish to the counter and pulled up a stool beside Reaves as he slid a plate in front of him.
Reaves grinned as he served himself a large helping. "I love Rosa's breakfast bake."
Ollie laughed. "So do I. Make sure you don't eat it all before I can get my share."
Reaves reached for the spoon again, and Ollie pretended to jab him with his fork.
"I was only snagging a piece of sausage for the hounds," said Reaves.
"Yeah right. I know you — it's two pieces for you and one for them."
The dogs were watching them closely, and Reaves turned and threw them each a piece.
"What do you want to do today?" he asked.
Ollie shrugged. The honest answer was that he'd like to go back and see Callie again. But it wasn't realistic.
Reaves laughed as if he'd read his mind. "I know how you feel. But since I can't see Alara and you can't see Callie, we're stuck with each other. So, what do you say — should we take the dogs down to the lake, give them a swim?"
Both dogs yipped happily when they heard that.
"Yeah, we should," Ollie agreed, feeling bad. It was hardly a lake in the normal sense, but the man-made pool was a favorite place for the dogs, and he hadn't taken them down there in far too long.
~ ~ ~
It was late by the time Callie made it back into the cottage on Thursday evening. She'd thought that she was going to rest today, give herself a little time to just hang out and adjust to being back home after the busy week she'd had in Napa.
She'd enjoyed it — loved being there for Becca as her bridesmaid, and there was no question that she'd enjoyed meeting Ollie. But she'd done more people time in the last week than she probably had in the last year.
As was usually the case with her, though, whenever she thought she was going to take a rest, she somehow found herself out in the cabin. At first, she'd planned to just tidy a few things up. But then it was hours later, and a fresh set of mugs stood drying, ready to be glazed tomorrow.
She smiled to herself. She could give the ones for Walt and Elena to Ollie the next time she saw him, along with the ones she'd made for him, Reaves, and Charles.
Her smile faded a little. She didn't know when she'd get to give Alara and Zia theirs. She'd have to mail them when they had an address.
She peered inside the fridge, wondering what she should eat. It was way past dinnertime. She checked the clock on the mantel. Jeez, she hadn't realized it was ten thirty already.
Turning back to the fridge, she selected some hummus, grabbed a few baby carrots, and chopped up a stick of celery. It wasn't the best dinner, but it was quick and easy.
She went and flopped down on the sofa, setting the hummus on the coffee table in front of her. Just as she was about to dip her celery, her phone rang. She scowled at it, wondering who it might be at this time, then grinned when she checked the screen and saw Ollie's name.
"Hey," she answered. "How are you?"
"I'm good, thanks. Sorry to call so late."
"It's okay, this isn't late. And if you'd called any earlier, you wouldn't have reached me."
"No? Have you been out for the day?"
"I've been in the cabin for the day."
"Oh, you went straight back to work? I thought you were taking a break."
She chuckled. "So did I; I don't even know how I ended up in there. It was a productive day, though. I made everyone's mugs." She paused. "I never thought to ask — do you even want one? I was just assuming."
"Hell, yeah, I'd like one."
She loved that he sounded indignant at the thought of her not making one for him.
"Sorry, I just wanted to check. I'd hate for you to think I was forcing some kitschy piece of crap on you."
"Hey." He sounded even more indignant. "Your work is not kitschy, and it is not crap, and I don't ever want to hear you say that again, okay?"
Warmth bloomed in her chest. "Wow, now you're being bossy, and I like it."
"Good, because I'm not going to back down over this one."
She didn't understand why she was smiling like an idiot. Usually, she hated when anyone tried to boss her around in any way, but this felt... different.
"Your work is amazing, Callie. Even someone like me, who doesn't know the first thing about art, can see that it's not just pottery — it's art. I wish I knew how to explain it better, but I think you know what I mean."
She nodded to herself. "Yeah, I do. And it's sweet of you to say it."
"It's not sweet, Callie. It's just honest."
"Okay, then thank you. But what about you? How was your day? What did you get up to?"
He chuckled. "All right, I'll tell you about my day with Reaves and the dogs, but don't think that you're getting away with changing the subject. I know what you're doing."
"All right, I wasn't trying to hide it from you. Just wanted to move on."
"So, did you guys have fun?"
"Yes, we did." She could hear the smile in his voice. "We took the dogs out for a run, and there's a place where they can swim. We had fun there. Peanut and Butter send their regards and want to know when they can see you again. Reaves says hi, too."
"Aww, well, you make a fuss over them for me, okay? Peanut and Butter, that is. Just say hi to Reaves."
Ollie laughed. "Okay, will do."
She stared up at the dark skylight, wondering what she should say about when she might see the dogs again.
"And while you're not answering the question," Ollie said, "Reaves talked to Alara again last night. She said she was going to continue on her way today."
Callie sat up a little straighter. "Yeah, I stopped by to see them after I dropped you off last night. She told me the same thing. I tried calling at lunchtime to see how they were getting on. Left a voicemail, but she hasn't called me back yet. I figured they were on the road."
"I just hope they get there okay," said Ollie.
"I do, too."
"So, back to the question. Any ideas when we can see you again?"
Of course she wanted to see him. She worried at her bottom lip, wondering if she should suggest they get together this weekend. Just as she was about to, he spoke first.
"I shouldn't be pushing, should I? How about for now, I'll just ask if I can call you again tomorrow."
She smiled. "Sure. It's not that I don't want to see you again. I just don't know when yet. What about you? How's your schedule looking?"
"I'm free for the rest of the week. Probably until Tuesday, by the look of it. Reaves and I are going to go up in the Cirrus one day, but other than that, I don't have anything going on. I am at your command. If you want to see me, I'll be there."
"Oh, that's sweet of you. And kind of weird, too."
"Weird?" he asked. "Thanks."
She laughed. "I mean that in a good way, honest. I think I'm more used to guys who play games and try to make me guess, and I'm not into that."
"Neither am I. I've already told you, Callie. I like you. I'd like to see more of you. You tell me when works for you, and I'll do my best to make it happen."
"Thanks. I'll figure it out and let you know. I'm not going to mess you around, either."
"I didn't think you would. It's not who you are, is it?"
"No, it sure isn't." She paused. "I should probably let you go. Are you getting ready for bed?"
"Ha! No, not yet. I only just came in. But I'm about to eat dinner, so yeah, I should go."
"Okay, I'll talk to you tomorrow, then."
"I look forward to it. Good night, Callie."
"Good night, Ollie."